


a dichotomy: right and wrong

by seh28



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Angst, Chemistry, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Sexual Content, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 21:05:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4802186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seh28/pseuds/seh28
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>post finale. the tension between annalise and wes reaches a boiling point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a dichotomy: right and wrong

Annalise knew this was going to happen. She'd always had a predisposition towards predicting things, that was part of the reason she had become an attorney. Her natural intuition, coupled with a slick tongue and persuasive chops, had made it a perfect career path. The amount of discipline and hard work that it required was a bonus. She hadn't had time to think about much else.

So she wasn't surprised as Wes stood before her nearing the cusp of completely shaking. They would have all found out eventually, but she was glibly trying to work out the details in her head where the fact that she had been privy to the information since that very night didn't enter the equation. But Rebecca's body had been found and because Wes was bright, it didn't take him long to put two and two together. Or the remnants of what he supposed those variables were.

“Did you do it?” Wes demanded grimly, his face twisting in a mixed display of emotion she wasn't accustomed to seeing from him.

“Of course not,” Annalise responded curtly. She'd had one two many vodka soda's to take the edge of the week, hell the edge of her life, off. Much to her displeasure, her own reality was starting to resemble those of the client's she fought tooth and nail to protect and defend.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Wes declared, his mouth opening and closing as if he had more to say after the last word, but his brain to mouth function wouldn't allow it. 

“Because of how you're acting right now,” Annalise replied matter-a-factly, her eyes scanning his reaction as she felt the harshness of her words as they left her mouth. His eyebrows knitted together in momentary anguish. 

“Did you know when we were on the stairs?” He accused with bewildered eyes. Annalise remained silent.

“You don't think I had a right to know?” Wes countered in disbelief, his voice bellowed in a way that was severely unusual for his cadence. Annalise felt herself grip her glass involuntarily at the volume. 

“It wasn't about who had a right to what information Wes,” Annalise spoke evenly, as her bottom lip touched the rim of her glass. She needed more alcohol. His emotions were attempting to weasel their way closer to her deeply buried vulnerability; trying to call forth a more sympathetic, alternate reaction. One she couldn't afford as the cost of things kept rising as of late.

“What are we going to do?” Wes exclaimed, his lanky figure, angled closer to her out of his sheer inability to house and harness the way his reactions were physically displaying themselves.

“Well firstly, you need to calm down,” Annalise stated, lowering her voice to a soothing pitch. 

“Calm?” Wes repeated in shock. “I don't know what you mean. I don't know how you're being so calm. Is this going to be commonplace now? Us getting rid of bodies? This is insane.”

“How would you rather me be?” Annalise questioned almost too literally, her weight shifting and settling on the corner of her desk as she regarded him a few paces away. “Should I fall apart? Would that suit you? Make you feel better? If we were both a bag of nerves and hysteria?”

“We aren't these people,” Wes stated faintly, his voice cracking under his own realization of the gravity of the situation. “We don't just kill and cover up murders.”

“No,” Annalise replied softly, taking a deep breath and emptying her glass swiftly. “We aren't. But somehow it's now what's being required of us. What other choice do we have? What would you have me do?”

“This is so fucked up,” Wes responded blankly, some of his prior emotion and outrage had been replaced by something more reserved and controlled.

“It is,” Annalise responded. “But we don't have any other option. Best case scenario is that she doesn't get traced back here. That no one saw her enter the house. You'll all likely be questioned because of how close you were. You especially.”

“I'm automatically going to be the prime suspect,” Wes muttered as he closed his eyes and rubbed his hand over his face, fatigue and disbelief suddenly careening through him.

“Look at me,” Annalise declared firmly, the vodka emboldening her and carefully aligning her closely back to the center of herself. “I will protect you. You will not take the fall for this.”

Wes' eyes pined her gaze immediately upon the request. They stood there silently for a moment, regarding each other and thinking their own private, and somehow intrinsically public, thoughts. Annalise almost didn't realize the distance he relinquished as he stepped into her personal space with quiet fluidity. The unmitigated look in his eyes translated nonverbally what he didn't have the capacity to utter.

“Aren't you tired of this?” Wes breathed finally, after cycling through various other questions that he couldn't allow himself to ask outright.

“I'm exhausted,” Annalise relented lightly on the end of an exhale. 

Something about his proximity and his height and his utterly honest and forthcoming expression, had a consuming affect. She often found those doe eyes of his hijacking her insides. In the past, she battled it quietly more often than not. But his presence was too loud and commanding in that moment. What's worse is that she was positive she couldn't blame it on the vodka. She almost physically shivered at how quickly the energy in the room had shifted. It was astonishing the way a more dangerous element all of a sudden hung in the air at the tail end of him and her. 

Wes sometimes had momentary degrees of boldness where she was concerned but those were always fleeting. However in that moment, Annalise was on the precipice of needing to hold her breath. She hadn't anticipated such a staunch display of unapologetic physical positioning. All the while without actually making contact. 

“What?” Annalise breathed, she could feel herself almost gripping onto the desk for dear life, her eyes never leaving his but almost desperately feeling like they should. She felt void of power in that moment, which wasn't something she was necessarily used to in their interactions.

“Nothing,” Wes relented softly. He watched the way her deep eyes scanned his, the way her lips parted in wordless question, the gentle rise and fall of her exposed collarbones in the deep purple dress she was wearing. 

Annalise had an inexplicable desire to put her hands on him. If only to stop gripping the desk and maybe ground herself in a different way. But she stopped short when she realized she'd done that before, she'd always been the one to cross that boundary. Initiating any and all physicality. She also knew she wasn't going to seduce him in that moment. Because she didn't have to. Plus it was fundamentally cliché and there were few things she detested more than those.

“This is a bad idea,” Wes mumbled as his face scanned hers for what seemed like the hundredth time in a 30 second span. He almost phrased it as a question though knowing the probability of the outcome at that point, reasoned against it. All his prior emotion and panic had somehow been reworked to a base simmer adorned as a fervent ache. More than anything he felt at what point are you not convinced that you're always spiraling towards an inevitability? “I'm gonna touch you.”

Annalise felt her breath hitch and her tongue wet her lips as his long nimble fingers reached down and grazed the inside of her thigh, making a calculated decent upwards. She had expected some type of contact but that particular act sent her reeling. One moment he hadn't been touching her, the next his hand was between her legs, which naturally made her suspend the entirety of her body weight onto the desk. 

Annalise had to remind herself to breathe as he caressed the inside of her thigh without so much as changing his focus. His eyes never left her face. His other hand went to her stomach, traveling upwards towards her chest but bypassed it to graze along the span of her collarbone. 

“You knew this would happen,” Wes whispered, leaning down further, closing what little distance was left between their bodies, hovering over her ear. 

Annalise let out a muffled whimper, as his hand made contact with her covered center, applying just the right amount of pressure as she reached up to brace herself against him by gripping his shoulders. His fingers found her wetness with some type of keen expertness that confused and jumbled her mind. One finger, followed by another slipped inside.

“I kept waiting for you to just do it,” Wes mumbled against her neck, his face buried in the crux of it, breathing in her scent. He felt himself harden to an almost painful level. His manual maneuvers were rewarded with her obvious arousal. “Shit, you feel so good.”

“You had to want it as much as I did,” Annalise whimpered almost incoherently, her back arching and her hips angling deeper into the pleasure his hand was giving her.

“Are you kidding me?” Wes questioned, kissing the length of her neck to her earlobe. His fingers started focusing solely on her clit and she showed her appreciation by wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and mumbling an expletive. “I was so confused. I would get hard thinking about you and be so upset with myself.”

“That's your problem, you're too sweet.” Annalise gasped between short breathes, her legs spread wide.

“That's not true anymore,” Wes all but promised as he pulled her underwear all the way to the side. “This is what happens when we no longer know the difference between right and wrong.”

Annalise reached between them and freed his hard member with expert speed and before she could actually ready herself for it, he was inside her. Her eyes squeezed shut as she adjusted to his size. There was suddenly too much going on and her body was on autopilot.

The empty glass she was drinking toppled over somewhere and along with a few other objects from her desk, hit the rug underneath them with a soft thud. His measured thrusts were slow and almost artful. He wasn't desperate or rushed, even if the moment sort of called for it. Neither was he inexperienced; he was downright skillful as his hands and mouth did a thorough exploration, leaving her verbal reactions almost constantly falling from her mouth. Between that and the glorious sounds he was making and the way he gripped her and the moments when he would just stop to look at her, she was deliciously close to the edge of a monumental orgasm. 

Half on and half off the desk, legs wrapped around his waist with a vice like grip, they were almost both fully clothed sans his pants that were only half on his body and the skirt of her dress that was hiked up to her hips.. Annalise's hands found his face and his mouth covered hers as his climax overtook him.

“Fuck,” Wes sighed against her lips.

Moments and various breaths later, Annalise ran a hand haphazardly over her face.

“Did we just make things worse?” She muttered, as she gingerly wiped lipstick from his mouth with her thumb.


End file.
